


A Bet

by Fitzfire



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 21:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11193966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzfire/pseuds/Fitzfire
Summary: After moving into town, Eren and his stepsister, Mikasa, start scoping out the local restaurants, cafes, and potential love interests. Well, that last bit is mainly Mikasa, but it’s Eren who ends up finding one. And boy does he find one.Eren has just moved to DC for a paid internship. Armin's an art student. It’s gay.





	A Bet

“There’s a guy at work who says Nola’s is a good place to eat,” Mikasa said. A guy at work? Were they already talking about a guy at work? Wonderful.

Eren sighed.

He’d been hoping the two of them would be comparing this café’s food and prices to the others they’d visited in the past month, or the culture shock of moving all the way across the country, or their actual jobs, or literary anything else. But if they were already talking about a guy at work, lunch wasn’t going to be fun.

See, Mikasa was obsessed with these dating websites, these books, these foolish, little articles about love. Eren could guarantee that she had at least four tabs of top ten lists pulled up on her laptop. More often than not, she’d talk all through dinner about how all single guys their age were either assholes or gay.

Eren would tell her that he hoped the last part was true, but he wasn’t serious. Unlike her, he’d never been afraid of ending up alone. Not for the longest time.

“Does this ‘guy from work’ have good taste?” Eren asked, glancing at her sidelong.

“I hope not.” Mikasa passed it off with a laugh.

Eren rolled his eyes. “Oh, come one. Having bad taste isn’t the same as being a little bitch who can’t handle a woman making more money or lift heavier shit than they can.”  They’d reached the sign hanging over the restaurant door, but Eren continued. “So you got to find someone who is either really secure in his masculinity and can handle yours, or someone who had no masculinity and can accept that you are the testosterone in the relationship.”

“Like I said,” Mikasa said. “They’re all either assholes or gay.”

“Fuck you too. I’m masculine!”

“And I’m feminine too. Calm down with the stereotyping.”

Now pointedly ignoring his adoptive sister, Eren peered through the café’s window. It was a dimly lit place, relying mostly on the sun for illumination. Most of the tables had two seats only, and for good reason. There were way too many of tables for the floor plan and barely enough room for the servers to squeeze past the chairs. Odd, if not displeasing, paintings hung on the wall, giving the café a bit of a hipster vibe.

“Comfortable,” Mikasa commented, peaking in with him.

Eren didn’t answer but opened the door without any trepidation. It was late for lunch but too early for dinner, so only about half the tables were taken. That worked for the both of them just fine. They usually only had snacks at night, and Mikasa didn’t like throngs of people.

A cheerful scene girl with bright red hair took them to a high table in the back. Mikasa slid into the chair that had its back to the wall and Eren slid into the other.

And of course, the conversation immediately turned to the guy from work. Typical.

“His name’s Jean,” Mikasa added as an afterthought.

“Uhuh,” Eren said, trying not to groan aloud. “So you’re saying that he isn’t gay.”

“No, and I know what you're going-“

“He’s an asshole isn’t he?” Mikasa opened her mouth but then closed it after a moment. “Nailed it.”

“Look, if you can look past that, he has a lot of other good qualities-“

Eren interrupted her. “Being an asshole is the dominant quality.”

“That’s not true.”

Eren laughed. “Yes, it is.”

“If you met him, you’d know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t need to meet him. I already know I hate him.”

“You hate anyone I’m interested in.”

“That’s because you have shit taste in guys.”

“Not even remotely true. What about Marco? Was he a shit guy?”

Eren leaned back in his chair. “He was gay.”

“That’s beside the point.”

Mikasa heaved a long sigh.  “What about you? Have you been talking to anyone in the office?”

Eren shrugged. An office job, or more aptly a paid internship, wasn’t exactly what he’d expected from his life, but there it was. Romance? Nah. Not much at least. “There’s this one girl,” Eren admitted. “Her name’s Annie. She’s cold, but we get along pretty okay. A guy named Bertolt said it was amazing she even talked to me. She’s not really that bad, but you’ve got to get to know her, I guess.”

“It’s almost like I’d have to meet her before I judged her.”

“Don’t try to be sassy, it doesn’t work. Anyway, it’s not like I like her or anything. We just talk.”

Mikasa shrugged. Sure, he was bi, but he had a strong preference for boys. She knew this, there was an understanding between the two of them. But then she ruined it. “Is she small and blonde?”

Eren didn’t deign to answer that.

“Hello,” came a voice. “My name’s Armin, I’ll be your server today, can I start you off with some drinks?”

Eren blinked, still looking into Mikasa’s face. Food. Crap.

“Did you look at the menu?” Mikasa asked without any hint of sarcasm

Eren stared down at the foreign object sitting in front of him. “Uh…” he trailed off. “I guess I’ll have a Pop. You have Pops, don’t you?”

“Uh? Pop?” the server asked, a little confused. Eren looked up at the server, flabbergasted. Didn't they have Pop on the East Coast?

He blinked a couple time and stared into the server’s face little too long. Blue eyes rimmed with thick eyeliner. Soft looking blonde hair cut right below the jaw bone. Collared tattoos running up his arms and along his collarbone. A silver lip ring wrapped around. Eren took it all in.

“He means Soda, or Coke,” Mikasa supplied, but her voice was distant. Somewhere along the way, Eren had stopped paying attention. The server looked young, maybe a shade over twenty. Surely he couldn’t still be a teenager, but he definitely wasn’t near his mid-twenties. College student that would be Eren’s guess. He looked down at the man’s name tag. Armin.

Armin caught him staring. “Oh, okay. A glass of…Pop then,” his mouth’s moved in an over exaggerated way, wrapping his lips around the new world.

He glanced down, feeling slightly foolish. He ran a hand through his long hair, and tighten his grip at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly. Way to look like some arrogant fuckboi.

Armin didn’t seem at all bothered, though, as he nodded and jotted down a couple of words in a little notebook.

And then Eren couldn’t help but watch him go.

“You like him?” Mikasa asked. There was a hint of skepticism in her voice that had Eren trying to keep a smile off his face.

 “He’s beautiful.”

Mikasa sighed. “You do go for the bad guys.” The humor dried up right there. She was referring to Levi, a mistake that Eren didn’t want to remember

“He doesn’t seem bad,” Eren said defensively. “He seems sweet.”

“Sweet boys don’t usually have tattoo sleeves.”

Eren looked off to the side, eyes catching on one of the paintings. “What does it matter?” he asked. “It’s just a thing.” An idle fancy, nothing more, just like everything else. “Tell me more about this Jean person.” God, there was a question he would’ve only asked in a moment of desperation. Mikasa must have seen through it, but that didn’t stop her from taking the bait.

Armin returned with their drinks a couple minutes after. In addition to his Pop, Armin placed a wide circular mug of tea appeared in front of Eren. “Let the tea bag sit in the cup for a couple more minutes,” Armin said, for no other reason, Eren was sure, than to fill the silence.

“Uh?” Eren asked, blinking.

“I order it for you,” Mikasa told him.

“Okay?”

Mikasa thanked Armin for Eren. The blonde boy stepped back to leave, but then Mikasa opened her mouth and started to ask something, attempting to start a conversation.

“You look about around twenty, right?” Mikasa said, unsure of where to begin. “Are you going to school?”

Armin smiled easily. “Yeah, I go to MICA, which is an art school in Baltimore. It’s summer, so I’m not over there right now. I come back home and stay with my parents on break.”

Eren could see the wheel turning in Mikasa’s head. She glanced at Eren briefly, urging him to join in, then she looked back up at Armin, trying to smile. “What year are you?” she asked. She’d starting shifting around in her chair and had already pulled both of her hands into her lap. Mikasa wasn’t a very social person. She wasn’t awkward per say, but she came off cold and uninterested when she wasn’t sure how to respond.

“A junior,” Armin said. He turned toward Eren. “How about you guys?” he asked. “You look like you’re in your mid-twenties.”

Eren swallowed. He didn’t want those blue eyes on him, but he didn’t like to see Mikasa trying so hard on his behalf. “Yeah, I’m twenty-six. She’s twenty-seven,” Eren said, nodding toward her. “She just got out of law school at the University of Oregon. With my master’s degree in Political Science, and my experience working with local government officials, we decided moving close to Washington DC would be beneficial for both of us.”

“Ooh,” Armin smiled again, and Eren couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s got to be some student loan debt.”

“Yeah,” Eren said wryly. “You could say that.”

Armin was still looking at him. Eren found that he couldn’t meet those eyes for any real length of time. He ended up staring down at the menu again. Armin left a moment after.

As soon as he was out of earshot. Eren raised his head and groaned. “Why do you have to do this?” he asked.

“There’s a good chance he’s gay,” Mikasa said. “He’s cute, he might even like you.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t like me.”

“Eren, you’re absolutely beautiful. You’ve always been able to get anybody you wanted. You even got a professor to risk losing his job to get into your pants.”

“Can we please not talk about that? Please?”

Mikasa’s face devolved into guilt. “Your right, I’m sorry. I still think you should ask him out.”

“Come on, Mikasa. Have you seen him? Have you seen me? Attractiveness aside, what do you think he could possibly see in me? What could we have in common?” Both Eren and Mikasa were consumed with their jobs. They had little time for anything else. Eren was practical and he imagined Armin was much more idealistic. He was pursuing a career in art, after all. Eren couldn’t see it working out, and he wasn’t interested in purely sexual relationships anymore.

“You need to stop defeating yourself before you’ve even tried,” Mikasa told him. Eren made a point of ignoring her, looking back down at the menu, but he found that he couldn’t focus on any of the words. Stupid little daydreams about kissing were making him feel warm and silly. That lip ring, though. One of the girl’s he’d slept with in college, Sasha maybe, had worn one and, it had been fucking amazing.

Despite any logic, he wanted Armin back at the table.

“Are you going to take the tea bag out?” Mikasa asked. Eren blushed much more deeply than he should have. He lifted the teabag out of the cup and dropped it on the plate. Next came a packet of sugar. He took a sip. Chamomile. A little too strong, maybe, but that was his own fault.

“What’s up with this.”

“I don’t know,” Mikasa said. “With all this craziness, I thought you might enjoy a little home.”

“It’s not going to be as good as mom’s,” Eren mumbled, taking another sip.

Where was Armin? He couldn’t help but scan around the room. To his right, the blue eyed boy was looking back at him. Eren’s eyes snapped back to his cup.

“He likes you,” Mikasa said.

Eren another sip of tea, feeling so utterly foolish.

Armin was coming toward them. He’d probably just been looking to gauge whether or not Eren and Mikasa were ready to order. Eren had let him know that they were. The only issue was that Eren wasn’t.

“Hey guys,” Armin said. Eren got all silly again as the guy smiled. “You like the tea?” He asked Eren as if his answer mattered.

“Very much,” Eren said. He’d been trying to avoid a conversation before, but now he was searching for something to say. “I spent a lot of my time in high school wondering whether I should go into creative writing or politics. Mikasa convinced me to go with the latter, obviously.” He was trying to loop around to asking how he’d decided on art school without calling him impractical. It only occurred to him half way through his little speech that he could have just come straight out and asked. Idiot.

“You’ve been together since high school?” Armin asked.

“Since we were thirteen,” Eren corrected. This seemed to bother Armin a little, but Eren couldn’t think why. “It doesn’t matter so much what Pre-Law major someone takes, or at least that’s what I’ve been told. Mikasa was determined to major in whatever I did and then take all my classes. I thought she might fail out if I made her go into writing.”

“I wouldn’t have failed out,” Mikasa said with a hint of indigence.

Eren reached out and patted her hand. “We can’t all be good at everything.”  

Armin was looking at their hands a little sadly, but once he felt Eren’s eyes on him again, he smiled. “You guys are really cute together.”

Eren blinked.

“We’re not together,” Mikasa told him.

“She’s my sister, my adoptive sister. Our mom took her in when we were thirteen.”

Armin put a hand on his chest. “Damn, ah, I mean gosh. Gosh, my mistake.”

“You really don’t need to censor yourself around Eren,” Mikasa said, giggling a little bit now. Armin bit his lip, drawing attention to that lip ring.

“Gosh,” Armin said again. “I need to take you guy’s order. Sorry, I get sidetracked sometimes.”

Mikasa, of course, was prepared, but he allowed some leniency when it came to his own disappointment in himself. Really, he’d begun to blame his lapses in common sense on a more general weakness for cute guys. Nothing wrong with that.

When Armin turned to him, he said the only thing he could. “Ah, actually I haven’t really decided yet.” Eren laughed self-deprecatingly. “I get sidetracked sometimes too.”

Armin blinked. “Did you want me to come back later?”

“No,” Eren said. He flipped the menu over and scanned for anything that might sound remotely appetizing.

Armin bit his lip again. They were still staring at each other, but Armin eventually looked away. Then he started listing off a few meals and specials. What a great solution, expect that Eren didn’t hear any of it. Fucking unbelievable.

“The second one,” Eren said.

“How would you like your eggs?”

Damn, he hated breakfast for lunch, but it was too late to go back now.

“Sure,” Armin’s voice was smooth and bright. At this point, Eren found that he had no choice but to surrender to it. Eren wondered how weird it would be if he took Armin’s hand right then. Probably really weird.

Armin lingered, taking a half step away but then opened his mouth. “Did you take any creative writing classes in college? Like, a minor along with Political Science.”  His voice was a little unsure.

Eren fingered his fork, starting to slide back in his chair. “Yeah, some, I suppose,” Eren mumbled and then repeated it, louder this time. Mikasa went a little stiff as well.

Armin seemed to notice the change in atmosphere and left quickly. Eren opened his mouth to call him back but then stopped.

“Eren-“

“It’s fine,” he said. “This is stupid.” It came out a lot harsher than he’d meant it. Mikasa unwrapped the cloth around her fork and knife and spread it across her lap, paying much more attention to it than anything around her.

“I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s fine.” He sighed. “It’s nothing to worry about.” He set his own fork down on the table.

Mikasa took a sip of coffee. “What are you working on?”

“Hmm?”

“He was asking about your book.”

Eren thought for a moment. “Not much, honestly. I’ve had a lot of work lately.”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “As if you don’t write at least 3,000 words a day, even during finals.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Don’t tell me-“

“No, it’s not about Levi.” Saying his name left a bitter taste in his mouth. “That was six years ago. It’s just that it’s not a thing anymore. I’m not going to get published. That’s the reality.”

“You haven’t tried anything. I was doing some research-“

“What?”

“Research.”

“About writing?”

“Yeah, as a career. Making money and that kind of thing. You could at least start a blog. Apparently, that’s a thing writers do.”

“Sure thing.”

“Why are you getting upset? And since when did you care about getting published? It’s for fun. You like it. I know you haven’t been writing as much as you used to but I didn’t know you stopped altogether.” Eren only shrugged.

Mikasa looked up. “Armin, tell Eren he should make a blog.”

 Back so soon? Did Armin already have their food? But no, Armin carried nothing in his hands, no, they were shoved way deep in his black skinny jeans. “You should make a blog,” Armin said.

“Ah,” Eren said, adjusting his collar. “I dunno.”

“All good writers have a blog,” Mikasa insisted.

“I dunno,” Armin said, repeating Eren. He shifted a little and looked down at his converses. “I don’t know many good writers.”

“You know Eren.”

“Mmm,” Armin hummed, running his teeth across his bottom lip. His lip ring shifted a little and it was killing Eren.

That was it, Eren knew he’d fucked up bad. This boy was going to be on his mind and, worse, fantasies for weeks. Those blue eyes, that smile, the way his narrow hips moved while he walked. Shit.

Eren raised his head and smiled. He didn’t have a reason, and he was done pretending like he needed one. He wanted to enjoy this. If he was going to walk out of the café either way, he could at least look at Armin.

“Lunch will be out in just a couple minutes. Do you want another glass of water?” Armin asked. While the blonde boy was looking over at Mikasa, Eren took the opportunity to trail his eyes across the tattoos on his arms. Blue flowers wrapped around what looked to be a ribcage, the spine running up the inside of his forearm ran up to the palm of his hand.

“Do you want to see?” Armin asked hesitantly. Eren nodded without really thinking about it. Armin offered his hand, and Eren took his wrist gently. He ran his fingers up the spine, feather light touches brushing along the fine, blonde hairs.

“You’re beautiful,” Eren said. He meant to say the tattoos were beautiful, and, frankly, he hadn’t noticed the difference, not until he heard Mikasa giggling. “Ah, well, I meant that the art was beautiful.” His cheeks were on fire, but his voice didn’t waver. And then he decided to open his mouth a-fucking-gain. “But I wasn’t wrong the first time.”

Holy shit.

Was that smooth or just creepy? Who was he kidding? He’d just run his hand up the guy's fucking arm and started sweet talking the guy. God, he was a sleazebag. Was Armin running yet?

“D-don’t worry about it,” Armin stuttered. “I’m glad you like me, I mean them, I mean- Yeah. Shit. You know.”

“Yeah,” Eren said, trying to puzzle out the fastest and most effective way of committing suicide.

“I’m gonna, you know. I gotta check on your food. Sorry. Yeah, see you!”

Eren nodded as unthreateningly as possible.

And then Armin was gone.

“God fucking dammit,” Eren whispered holding his head in his hands.

“He’s got it bad,” Mikasa said.

Eren’s snorted. “You must be out of your goddamn mind. After that? He probably thinks I’m some playboy. I bet he doesn’t want anything to do with me ever again. Nope. We’re done with this café. Let’s not come here ever again. There are plenty of other cafés. Not this one.”

Mikasa smiled. “How about this. I think we should make a bet.”

“What?”

Mikasa straightened in her chair, radiating confidence. “If he gives you his number, you have to come on a double date with me and Jean next Saturday.”

“With _Jean?_ ”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to ask him out?”

Mikasa looked away.

Eren crossed his arms, and sat back in his chair. “He already did, didn’t he?”

“I was going to tell you, here, actually. I just wanted to warm you up to the thought of it first.”

“Unbelievable. And no, I’m not agreeing to your shitty deal. I’m not going on a date with Jean!”

“But I thought you said there was no way Armin would give you his number.”

“There’s not!”

“Then what’s the harm in taking the bet.”

Eren narrowed his eyes, but she did have a point. “What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

Eren thought about it for a moment. “You have to do the dishes and my laundry for two weeks!”

“I already do that.”

“Okay, fair. But you have to stop being passive aggressive about it.”

“I’m not.”

“You just did it. You did the passive-aggressive thing. Don’t do that for two weeks when it comes to chores.”

Mikasa sighed heavily. “Sure.”

Armin didn’t speak any more than he had to when he brought their food.

“See,” Eren said, but there wasn’t any real triumph in his voice. Mikasa didn’t look perturbed.

They sat almost in silence as Mikasa ate her salad and Eren ate his French toast. It wasn’t any groundbreaking, but it wasn’t bad either.

Mikasa swallowed. “He’s bringing the check.”

Eren clenched his jaw.

Armin look as on edge as Eren felt. He laid the black booklet on the table before smiling coyly and retreating.

Mikasa took the booklet before Eren had even taken his eyes off Armin’s retreating figure. When Eren did glance over at his adoptive sister, she was smiling in a way that was way too smug. It wasn’t a good look for her.

“Hey, what are you-“ Eren began. Mikasa took the receipt of the booklet and spun it in her fingers so that the back side was facing Eren. He could make out ten distinct numbers scrawled in blue pen.

“Holy shit,” Eren whispered.

“Time to uphold your end of the deal.”

“Listen, Mikasa. I can’t!”

“You agreed to the terms of the bet.”

“I _can’t._ ” Eren could feel the contents of his stomach churning

“Yes, you can and you will. I have faith in you. You’re going to ask him out, right now.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t!”

“Won’t what?” came a hesitant voice from behind them. Eren turned and saw it was Armin.

Fuck it.

“So, this guy asked Mikasa out a few days ago, but he’s a total douchebag. 0/10 would not look again. But Mikasa felt sorry for him so she said she’d go with him to a movie or something. I, as her older brother, cannot let her endure this suffering alone. So I figure the two of us have a moral reasonability to help her out, so we’ll have to go with her together.”

Oh god, why was he like this?

Armin stared at him, a lack of comprehension obvious on his face as he tried to puzzle out exactly what Eren had meant, but then a slow smile spread across his face. “It’s the least we could do.”

“Next Saturday good?”

“Perfect.”

Eren handed Armin the booklet. “Mikasa’s paying.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look what I found in the dark recesses of my computer. Been months since I wrote eremin, and it was a nice stretch after so much angst yumikuri. I'm pretty sure I had planned for this to be a multi-chaptered fic, and I might come back to that idea, but I have a few other projects to get to first. In the meantime, I have three other eremin fics on this account if you want to go check them out. Plus, I mean, if you like yumikuri I've got plenty of that too.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


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